Emperor of the East
A Timelines Inter-Season Showcase Presentation by Calipah
Editor's Note said:
Welcome to the first of Timelines' many showcases in line for this inter-season where we'll be looking at the myriad of different offerings different fans and authors set in the Timelines universe ! We hope you enjoy ! I was very excited when Calipah wanted to write about the situation in the East after the timeframe of this season . You'll find that he'll be writing and alluding to several things that happen between 1610 and the next Season including some historical elements that have not yet been fully disclosed in the actual text . I have read it over and do certify it as canon so please enjoy ! I will provide more historical basis and filling in more gaps in what's happened in the next few updates of the showcase including what happened to the Ottomans etc !
“It has been a thousand years since the first Muslims trekked the perilous wastelands from honored Mecca to the sleepy village of Yathrib, to beckon by their footsteps the coming of an age. From the oblivion of obscurity they emerged united by faith, the ceaseless Bedouin warriors and hardy peasants of the peninsula, they took the world by storm. Of what was promised, the palaces of Kisrah, and the riches of Cesar, came to be with the fall of the mighty Empires to the East. The centuries passed, and Islam went from strength to strength, her Caliphs and Sultans, thinkers and poets, illuminating the world in a grandeur not known since the time of the Shahnamah Kings. Yet like a broken vase, its lords and princes fought each other with the tenacity of beasts, and so it came to pass that the strong must wane into weakness. The enemies of the faith converged upon it like vultures swayed by the smell of flesh, and such is the will of Allah the all-knowing. From joyous Al-Andalus through fertile Egypt to the bride that is Syria, our people were hounded from their homes by a merciless infidel, their religion desecrated, their women raped, and their children dead. To add insult to injury, the three jewels were taken away – Qudus of the ascension, Medina the pure, and most grievous of all, Mecca the holy. Such has come to pass, and so it is the will of Allah, a righteous punishment for those who sinned and did not repent. But in our hour of despair, the Lord has sent to us a Ali incarnated, a heavenly symbol who vowed war upon the Infidel and brought victory, a medium of the divine essence through which redemption is made possible, and portent of the Hidden Imam ((Say verily my Lord, holder of sovereignty, you endow Kingship upon whom you wish, taketh it from whom you wish, you honor whom you wish, you humble whom you wish, in your hands is all good verily you are capable of everything))”
- Writings of Mullah Lotfullah Al-Gilani, 1611, Kitab al-Akbhar fi Amr el-Isphan
Bejeweled in the riches of olden Kings, clad in a long silk robe befitting Him alone, the Shahinshah, like a colossal Kay Khosrow, the first of the mortals to be crowned, walked towards the throne in steady steps, the retinue, guards, and slaves following him abreast in ceremonious procession. On either side amassed the gentry of an Empire, a pageantry of color to make true the Persian saying “Isfahan is Half the World” Outside the joyous celebrations of a growing multitude could be heard, their music and cheers seeping into the humongous hall of Ali Qapu, tantalizing the veining calligraphy and golden peacocks into life. There was an almost heavenly light seeping through the slits of the golden dome, basking the great hall in a aura of white illumination. The air was soaked with oriental perfume and the finest burning incense, the portals draped in Silken cloth made in the Samarakandi fashion. The wealth of a great Oriental Empire, ever resplendent, ever glorious. Behind the vast crowd, the customary belly dancing and singing commenced, heralding his arrival.
With every stride the Shahinshah took on the long and richly decorated carpet, the Nobles of every tire and rank knelt in reverence. He ascended the steps to the great throne slowly, the Poshtikbān Sālār:, the select chiefs of the many Imperial palaces, flanked him on either side loyally. Atop his sovereign seat, he took in the body of his subjects with a glance. The parade of Imperial troops and servants parted sideways before him, as if he were a Moses and they a sea. Following them there came before him the Mullahs of Qom, led by the Ruh’ollah Al-Bari, to present the relics of his Shia dominion – the snake tongued sword of Ali, the shield of Hussein, and most importantly, the crown of Cesar, a treasured Byzantine artifact rescued by the Saradukar and Ghulman during the siege of Constantinople. It was a surviving legacy of Emperor Qunstuntine Al-Azeem, an embellished crown supposedly worn by the mightiest Christian – and Muslim – Kings of the West. The wizened cleric bowed before him, turned to the page holding the crown, and adored the head of the Shahinshah with the glistening crown, summarily kissing his forehead and right hand as he descended the steps. One by one came the dignitaries and lords of Dar al-Islam to pay their respects to the Shahinshah – the brazen Qayd Al-Askhar the Champion Jafar was the first to kiss the royal ring, followed by the newly converted Sheriff of the Hedjaz and descendent of the Prophet, who presented the Emperor with a cloth piece of the Kiswah, the covering of the recently renovated Kaabah.
The arrayed members of the royal house, the Shahbanu, the harem and the catamites were then received. Then the princes of the West came forth, from the Arab Emirs of Syria and Misr to the Kurdish Atabegs and Turkish lords of Smyrna and Sivas, offering a myriad of stupendous gifts to the Shahinshah – peacocks, giraffes, treasures and ancient tomes and books. So was the tradition, so was the custom. Then came the princes of the East, the vanquished lordlings of the former Timurid Empire, the Pashtun and Baluchi Chieftains, the Governors of Bukhara and Samarkand, all stars orbiting the sun that is the Shahinshah. Good wishes of perpetual rule they gave, bequeathing their swords and arquebeses for the defense of the Empire. So was the tradition, so was the custom. Lastly came the Khan of Crimea, one of the remaining adherents to the old and defunct heresy of the so called ‘Sunnah’. He bowed and pronounced the Shahaddah of the Shia creed – such was the will of the Emperor. Such was the sway of his power, for truly, he was now the real Shahinshah, the Hakan, the Padishah, the Kagan, the Mepe-Mepete! Who else had a domain as grand as he? Who else could garner such adulation and love from his subjects? Who controlled the fate of millions other than he?! From Anatolia to the depths of Asia, from cold Astrakhan to the blistering heat of Arabia and Ifriqya! The crowd, as if in sync with his thoughts, bowed in unison before his awesome might, the banners of the Persian Empire and the Prophet fluttering furiously on the columns, the ecstasy of total power grasping his very being. There was no doubt about it, HE was the one, the Emperor of the East, and perhaps soon…Emperor of the West.